Wednesday, October 29, 2014

My trip to the hospital lasted from 6:00 in the morning on Tuesday to noon on Wednesday and involved a lot of awkward semi-sleeping, visits from sweet coworkers, watching bad TV with my boyfriend, many takings of my pulse, oxygen level & blood pressure, tons of drugs, and many very sweet nurses who loved having someone under the age of 60 on the floor. I apparently woke up from surgery moaning for Chapstick and putting on lotion for the first time after the surgery became one of the single most blissful feelings I've ever encountered. I painted my nails and started reading Serena by Ron Rash (my boss has challenged me to read 12 books while I'm out). I wore puffy leg wraps, which is a big upgrade from the puffy boots I had to wear last time. And now I can officially check "have a catheter placed" off my bucket list.

But most important, far more important than any of that: my surgery was a success, and my doctor is very pleased with how it went. Full recovery is highly likely, and after I have my one stitch (just one stitch!) out on November 10th, I'll start physical therapy. I was bedridden yesterday and nervous about getting up this morning, but once the physical therapist had me on my feet, I was so happy--I can sit and stand, walk and very carefully take steps if need be. I've been standing around a lot, just because it feels good. I mean...why not, right? The physical therapist thinks my biggest struggle will be remembering to take it easy; I'm moving pretty gingerly right now, but as my incision heals, I'm going to need to remind myself to take everything slow. I can't lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk right now, and I can't bend over much further than to lift the toilet lid. (At least I can make that happen.) I'm really looking forward to being able to bend over and pet my dog again.

Thank you all for your well wishes and support here and on Instagram! It was actually a lot of fun to keep up with everything via IG and show off my sweet boots and sharing the whole process was actually rather cathartic. I'll keep sharing too, I'm sure--nothing like some photos of bandages and PT to pass the time, and I can't wait to start taking outfit photos again!

And in case you were wondering, I was the best dressed patient when I was discharged--I wore this dress out of the hospital. Who says comfort has to come before style?

Monday, October 27, 2014

Isabella emailed the Style Imitating Art curators (Salazar, Jen and myself) this week to point out that as much as she loves SIA, there's a real lack of something...mainly, female artists.

Wat.

This is a thing I never even thought of, and what a stupid thing to not note--SIA is comprised almost solely of women, and the subjects of the art we choose are often females, so what gives with the lack of female artists? We're fixing that righthererightnow with Helen Frankenthaler, a prominent color field painter (and not the first we've interpreted). Canyon in particular is a rich piece, exposing the emotional response Frankenthaler had to a canyon. Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon, or any other canyon? It's a filling moment. There is an enormous space of nature in front of you, gaping wide and reaching out into the world around it. It's stunning, and the colour and movement convey that awe.

So pick your outfits and email me your photos by the evening of Monday, November 3rd to be included! Enjoy, y'all!

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

I had my pre-op appointment today. Lots of bloodwork and questions and an x-ray and an EKG and paperwork. It wasn't fun, and I have to say, things are a lot different now than when I had my first surgery in 2006. I was 19 and young and depressed and didn't much care what happened--major depression kind of has that effect of putting you above fear and intimidation and worry. But I'm 28 now, and I have a career and a family and a boyfriend and bills and I'm scared. I know everything will be fine; this is a relatively minor surgery, after all, compared to something like open heart surgery. But I'm nervous and scared and I don't want to lose anything except the part of my disc that is pressing so painfully into my spinal cord. I don't want to take a month off work. I don't want to be trapped or lost. But I'm doing it, because I can't be in pain for the rest of my life.

I'm going to have to use special soap Monday night and Tuesday morning and I will have to be at the hospital at 6am. My doctor thinks the appointment surgery will take 2.5 hours. I should be awake by 2pm at the latest.

I can't wear nail polish, so I'm packing polish in my overnight bag so I have something to do while I'm up all night wearing booties that puff up with air every 30 seconds to keep the blood flow going in my feet. I am also taking books and if all goes well, my coworkers are going to visit me to cheer me up.

The hospital is freezing but I'm going to get a robe that has its own HEATING SYSTEM. That nearly completely makes up for the booties.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

I stopped dying my hair over a year ago, and to be honest, I have mixed feelings. I don't think I really have a lot of difference between my natural colour and my dying colour, because I have a lot of red in my hair. The orange streaks in my hair are due to extreme bleaching, which is why I started dying my hair in the first place; I had seriously orange ends and brown roots and it looked stupid, so I started dying everything one colour. So when I stopped, three things changed. First, of course, is that my natural hair colour started growing in. That's what all that brown is above. (I'll turn orange at the ends the next time I'm outside. Trust.) Second, all the grays that I had apparently been covering up appeared with a vengeance. No one in my family started to go gray until they were in their 40s, but I got my first gray at 20. I might just buck the trend.

Third, though, and hardest for me to get a handle on, is that my hair texture has changed. I used to have really fine and hard to brush hair, but thankfully, I think that's permanently changed just because I'm older. However, my hair used to be mostly straight with some wave (see this post or any others before August of 2013 for reference). Now it's this craziness--ultra curly at the ends and won't lay down for anything. A lot of people would kill for curl, I know, but I started dying my hair at 14 or 15, and I've never seen my natural, fully undamaged hair texture. And...I'm not sure if I like it. Part of me doesn't mind dying my hair every couple of months, but part of me doesn't want to have to pay for hair dye every month. Part of me loves that I have submitted to the Stacy London School of Gray Hair, but part of me hates how my hair looks, and has looked since I cut it in August. And I truly just hate that I am going to once again have hair that is extremely prone to bleaching out and looking orange.

A true first world conundrum, to say the least, but I'm not sure what to do. Gimme advice, y'all!

Monday, October 13, 2014

Two Women at a Window, by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo
Circa 1665/1660, oil on canvas

I was doing some research on Jen's pick for this week's Style Imitating Art, which is housed at my favourite art gallery, the National Gallery of Art (and which Jen saw on exhibit!). And it turns out that the NGA has two conflicting viewpoints on their own site about this painting! At the painting's official page, the NGA explains the painting as a charming and wistful painting of innocent delight. However, on this page, which is part of the Spanish Painting in the Seventeeth Century tour, the NGA digs up the dirt: this may or may not be a painting of a prostitute and her procuress. OH MY! (Insert George Takei here.)

Send Jen your submissions by Monday, October 20th, to be included in this week's Style Imitating art post! Keep an eye on the warm tones in this one--it's a great piece of inspiration for fall.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

I have been trying very hard to photograph this skirt for the blog. I've worn it a ton since I got it, and it has just never been photographed. So not fair! But here it is, in all its crowning glory.

In other news, the FAIR is in town, and my friend dragged me off for a trip to the fair. We partially went to see what we could lay claim to for next year (her, banana bread and cornbread; me, pumpkin spice cookies, apple pie and possibly some sort of embroidery), but also for funsies. She forced me to eat a fried Oreo (first time/last time), and we went to a petting zoo where I made friends with a yak (a YAK!!!!). We saw piglets and a giant parrot seemed really fascinated with my face for some reason but the alpaca was terrified of me. The yak was definitely my fave though.

She also made me go on a ride, which did not go well. I do not like rides much at all--no fast no upside down no backward etc.--but she loves them, so we compromised and went on those giant swings that go up a pole and swing around really fast. It was terrifying and I did not like it but I'm not dead, so at least there's that. Next time I'm sticking with the Ferris wheel.

I'm Jess.
I'm 29.
This is my blog,
where I post self-taken photos
of what I wear.
If you can get over the fact that
I don't smile endlessly,
and that I'm okay with my weight,
we'll get along fantastically.